Page 9 of Star Champion

It took his breath away that she dared to confide such a damning secret with him, knowing how rigid his beliefs were, how traditional, and the great lengths to which he was willing to go to safeguard their family’s reputation. He was blasted lucky to have gotten off with only house arrest after trying to prevent aVashprincess, Ché’s original betrothed, from marrying another man—a non-Vash-Nadahman from Earth. Klark’s interference nearly cost the pair their lives. Although he had never intended for that to happen, he would have faced execution if it had. All was now forgiven, but not forgotten.

In the face of his silence, Katjian kept going, “I think Ché must have felt trapped, too, because he went to Earth and fell in love with Ilana.”

“No, Kat. Ché complied with what was expected of him—”

“But—”

“Creatively, I’ll give you that—but nonetheless he did.”

“What about you?” She frowned up at him.

He reared back. “What about me?”

“Sometimes when I’m watching you and you don’t know I am, I can see in your face that you feel trapped, too. Just like the rest of us. We Vedla offspring are nothing more than fish wriggling in a net.”

“What foolishness is this? Fish wriggling in a net?”Like a creature entombed in amber for all eternity. He somehow kept his gaze away from the table of fossils and focused on his sister’s expectant, upturned face. “Kat, you know better than to try to interpret my foul moods.”

Or read into Ché’s unorthodox actions. Klark loved his brother with all his heart, but the crown prince of their clan should be a faultless, shining example for them all.

“First of all, a mindless, netted fish is in an involuntary state; ours is a voluntary one,” he offered, trying to imbue his words with a cheerful tone.

Convince me, she had pleaded with him moments earlier, and he was already marching down the road to failure. He must change her view, somehow, or bear the responsibility of the consequences. He could not help thinking of Tee’ah, the Dar princess, who had fled an impending unwanted marriage and nearly got herself killed in the process. Not all of those near-misses could be blamed on Klark’s actions. Katjian might be tempted to run away and risk her life as well unless he redoubled his efforts to be a good example for her, a modelVash, and to not flirt with the limits of conventional behavior like their elder brother had. Especially now that he was aware of how closely his youngest sister watched him.

His entire family depended on him to set the standard.

From the depths of his mind he pulled out the best explanation he could conjure—the one he had secretly used to preserve his own sanity in his darker hours. “We’re not netted. We’re swimming, actually.”

“Swimming…”Is that the best you can do?A single, lifted brow asked that question of him as she folded her arms over her chest. She was far too young to wear such a cynical expression.

“We respect the sea because of its power. To survive in the sea, we must learn to work with it, and not against it. For instance, if a riptide pulls us in an undesired direction, we know not to panic and fight the current lest we risk exhausting ourselves before we can make it back to shore. Our ancestry is like the sea. It’s stronger than we are; it requires us to think before we act. Find a way to embrace who you are, Kat, and what you are. Find a way to…stay afloat.”

“You always know what to say.” She wound her arms around him and squeezed, her cheek nestled against his chest. A stiff and awkward moment ticked by before he relented and hugged her back, stunned by her trust and adoration despite all his misdeeds the past year. Something inside him softened in the warmth of her unconditional love. At the same time that softening exposed a weakness in him. Softness led to complacency, and complacency led to catastrophe. Family history bore that out.

A chirping tone rang out from the direction of his desk where his viewscreen flashed with an incoming call. Now what? The morning had turned into a ceaseless parade of interruptions. He gave his sister’s hands a squeeze as he unwrapped her. “We will talk more another time. Don’t do anything rash in the meantime. Come to me first before you consider,” he hunted for words of tact, “anything irreversible. Do we agree?”

“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”

He hesitated a few seconds more before letting go of her hands, as if she were a vase that almost tumbled off a shelf, a priceless piece he did not dare release until he was sure it was back in place. While she seemed somewhat pacified, he was not quite sure if he had helped or made things worse. “Be off with you. I need to take this call.”

But Katjian trotted behind him as he strode over to his desk and opened the screen to a familiar face. Her curious eyes brightened. “Oh, look! It’s Yonson Skeet. He’s adorable.”

Adorable? “He’s the captain of Team Eireya, our pro bajha team.”

“I know,” she all but sighed.

“Leave it, Kat.” The last thing he needed was his little sister swooning over bajha players.

What was Skeet up to, calling him out of the blue? He and the rest of the team were busy with the annual tour: playing exhibition matches, granting interviews, kissing babies. “Mr. Skeet. It’s good to be able to congratulate you face-to-face on your fine match yesterday. Well done!”

“Thank you, sir. Please excuse the interruption.” Klark had always insisted on less formal modes of address from his players. He wanted to encourage a brotherhood of athletes, not a court full of simpering supporters. Skeet’s head bowed briefly before his attention veered toward Katjian and her sweetly demure smile.

It’s a trick, Skeet, Klark wanted to say.Don’t fall victim.

“Your Highness,” the player said with awestruck solemnity in his tone, not something Klark often saw in Skeet. Then his gaze returned to Klark. “Sir, you need to see this vid.”

“Appropriate viewing material for the princess, I assume.”

“Oh, yes. That is, if the princess likes watching bajha.”

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